


Dulce est Decorum Est Pro Amore

by orphan_account



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Death happens, I'm really fucking sorry, I'm sorry to all writers and historians this is blasphemy, M/M, feel free to shoot me, for Laurens's death day, i can totally see cicero or presley roasting this fic on tumblr, i shouldn't even post this, mostly historians though, second fic ever, still technically the 27th?, that's the point, the title is blasphemy, the use if Hamilton's letter is blasphemy, well technically it was yesterday cause it's past midnight but y'know, welp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 21:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11930040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I'm disgusting for posting this, and I'm really sorry to twist history like this. Especially with the title, oh god, the title is defiling history completely. Please just shoot me in the head.But if you want an actual summary: Laurens dies, and I sicken historians everywhere with my title.





	Dulce est Decorum Est Pro Amore

**___A letter, on a desk, unopened, unread. The address, written in a scrawling script, in black ink._ **

Bang!

_**“To John Laurens, from Alexander Hamilton.”** _

John barely has time to turn around before he feels the bullet tearing through his flesh. He lets out an agonized cry as he crumples to the ground, hands clutching his wound as blood seeps through his fingers.

**_“I received with great pleasure, my dear Laurens, the letter that you wrote me last…”_ **

_I’m dying,_ John thinks. He would laugh if it didn't hurt so much. _I’m dying…_ He tries to say it out loud this time, but even this weak attempt at speech is excruciating, so the words come out as more of a pained croak.

**_“...Peace made, my dear friend, a new scene opens…”_ **

_How strange,_ he thinks, _That when I finally die it happens at the end of the war._

John fades in and out of consciousness, the sounds of battle raging around him.

**_“...Quit your sword, my friend, put on the toga. Come to Congress...”_ **

_All those times I could have died, all those times I should have died, why did  
God decide to spare me? I should've died._

**_“...We have fought side by side to make America free; let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy…”_ **

As he ponders the past, thinking about what could have been, seeing the ghosts of the people in his past, a face drifts across his vision. John would know him anywhere. The man he had poured his heart into, who he had lived for, who he loved. Who he loves still. The one person he does not want to leave behind.

**_“Yours for ever…"_ **

One word, whispered, on his lips as he dies. A hope, a wish, a poem, a prayer.

_Alexander..._

**_"A.H.”_ **

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> That is actually the last letter Hamilton wrote to Laurens (you think I could write like that? Ha!). He may or may not have read it. I say he didn't, but that's just to make it sadder.


End file.
